John Southworth Tour Diary: Part One

A couple of weeks ago, ChartAttack talked to alt.country nice guy John Southworth as he prepared to commence a tour across Canada by train.

Well, Southworth was also nice enough to write about the trip for us and over the next few days, you can read about it. Without further ado, here's John, from Nova Scotia to Quebec.

Diary entry #1:
I'm writing from Dartmouth on the other side of Halifax. Dartmouth is where the true olde sea magic lies! I've been staying in a place with a view of the whole harbour — city line, lighthouses, railroad tracks by the shore! Speaking of which, Halifax harbour foghorns in the lighthouses are tuned to (the note) E Minor — just like the train whistles in all SDN trains. It's true! Yes, Halifax is musically alive in the root of E! Crazy huh?

My train is leaving for Montreal in about 30 minutes... I must go. (The show was fun last night but I couldn't stop talking about rainbows in between the songs again.)

Diary entry #2:
There is nothing quite as peaceful and beautiful as train travelling at night through the small quiet villages and towns of rural Eastern Quebec. I always find it rewarding, especially tonight to pass through these old rooted communities while they were sleeping was a blessing.

Speaking of blessings, I would like to extend a warm thanks to Desmond, station manager of the VIA Renaissance train from Halifax to Montreal for making me feel very at home and comfortable. I have a little feeling that a few of these old train agents are angels.

Diary entry #3:
Montreal, Saturday evening: after my set at The Main Hall, my friend Verona and I headed up St. Laurent, found a cafe, gorged on chili and wine, then headed down the back alley in the darkness searching for plant and animal life. Strange curling vines, unfolding greenery and many white cats on the winding steps. Then Verona said she half expected to find a gondola on a stream of red wine at the end of the alley. I smiled and said that giant women with tails live in the mountain.

The next day...
Wakefield — Black Sheep Inn: I jogged alongside the steam train for a stretch outside the Black Sheep Inn as it departed for Hull, sending my best to the engineer and trying politely to ask for a summer job (surely the next generation of engineers must be in line for hiring soon), but he did not answer as he fixed his gaze on the bending track around the hills.

Later during the show, as the entire audience and I were planting turnip seeds along the track just in front of the Inn, a flock of bikers pulled up. My fans are courageous spirits and I salute them.